


temerate

by donutcats



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, F/M, POV Second Person, asra is mentioned in name like once, it's mostly angst because i love to make my mc suffer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 06:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14970776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutcats/pseuds/donutcats
Summary: temerate: (v.) to break a bond or promise.It feels like deja vu, in a way. Julian accepting whatever fate he’s chosen in the cell of his own making, from his own decisions. And you, wanting so desperately to help a man who’s drowning himself.





	temerate

**Author's Note:**

> set someplace after book XI after supposedly going to asra for help.   
> I'll be honest, I played XI the moment it came out and I don't remember every single detail and I just got finished catching up with asra's book, so I don't have enough keys to replay the entire book. if there's a few things wrong then, shrug. I still hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> this was a very self indulgent fic because my mc Nova is way more pissed at Julian than the canon mc seems to be, so I just had to write something cathartic.

You are once again taken to the cell that holds Julian, through hallways and stairs you remember walking, before the dungeon and the trial. When you arrive, Julian is sitting against the wall, jacket in the corner. The guard opens the cell door, stepping in after you.

Turning, you place your hand on the guard’s arm, where the sleeve of his jacket and the edge of his glove meet. You focus on that strip of skin, and give him your kindest smile. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to be alone with the prisoner. It won’t be more than a few minutes.”   
  
“But-” The guard shakes his head a bit, looking to you and then to Julian. “I was ordered to… stay…”

“It’ll be fine. The Countess trusts me, and so should you.” You slip your index finger under the hem of his sleeve, feeling your magic sweep along his wrist. Finally, he blinks, gives a slow nod, and agrees before leaving you to your privacy.

Once he’s full out of view, you rush forward, feeling Julian’s arms encompass you. No matter how angry you are with him, the need to hug him has been building since the guard first interrupted.

It’s bittersweet, if you’re being honest. He smells like he always has, like alcohol and a bit of blood and something just slightly musty. Oddly enough, that’s the sweet part. The bitter comes in the way you can hear him jangle every time he moves. The manacles reminding you of why you’re here. 

“Come to say your last goodbyes, eh?” Julian tries for a joke, to lighten the mood somewhat as he leans away, but it falls flat as he catches sight of your expression. Decidedly unamused. “Ah, not feeling funny today, are we.” 

With a huff, you pull away from him. It’s harder than you thought it’d be, your hands seem to want to keep grasping at that terrible shirt of his. “No, Julian. I’m more in the mood to discuss why you thought any of this would be a good idea.”

He’s the one to break the embrace, gloved fingers dragging down your arms, and then he’s stepping back. “I have nothing to discuss with you.” There’s a finality in his voice, the cold edge creeping onto his tongue. 

It feels like deja vu, in a way. Julian accepting whatever fate he’s chosen in the cell of his own making, from his own decisions. And you, wanting so desperately to help a man who’s drowning himself. 

You stand, tears welling in your eyes, watching as Julian closes himself off. The cell is dimly lit but you hope he can see the pain on your face. You  _ want _ him to see it. "No matter what I say, nothing will change your mind." It's not a question, it's a statement. Because you know him.   
  
"I'm guilty, and that's that." He straightens his shoulders, postures in a way that you've become familiar with. The slant of his neck and the curl of his mouth, it's a Julian that's putting on a show.    
  
"You are  _ not _ ." There's anger mixing with your sadness, hot and swirling. You can feel the edges of the plan you and Asra cooked up fading from your mind, as you latch on to this one burning emotion.    
  
"How do you know?" Julian sneers, hands balling into fists even as he crosses his arms.

"Because I know when you're lying." Your voice is stronger than you feel, and your words seem to catch Julian off guard. His good eye widens a bit, mouth slackening. Before he can respond, before he can slip back into his act and spin widely about how wrong you are, you barrel on. " _ Fine, _ " the word spits out of you, your arm slicing the air for emphasis. "Go, be a martyr. Hang for a crime you did not commit."    
  
The tears fall, silent, as you mirror his anger, your hands curling into fists at your side. "You looked me in the eyes and told me that you regretted pushing me away. And yet now, you do it again. You made it feel like a _promise_ , and then you rip it from my hands. For what? In hopes that I'll hate you? I refuse to give you that satisfaction, Julian. Because that's what you want, right? You want me to hate you so that when you face the executioner I won't be sad."   
  
You've advanced on him, having to crane your neck to look at his face. His height gives him a terrible advantage, but in this moment you don't care. His arms have gone from irritably crossed, to wrapping themselves around his own middle.    
  
"Listen to my words, Julian Devorak, and know them to be true. Remember them, let them be the last thing you think about, the only words you know after death. No matter how angry I am, no matter the lengths you go to, I will always care for you. There is no magic strong enough in this world or any other to stop me from mourning you. There is nothing," you drop your voice to a harsh whisper, finger digging into his chest as you poke at him, "that holds enough power to stop me from loving you."

Julian seems breathless, as he stares at you, his eye completely wide. “Nova, I…” His fingers wrap around your own, engulfing your hand as he pulls it flush against his chest. After a beat of silence, as you both breathe each others air, his jaw works, his eye hoods, and his shoulders once again set. He’s come to a decision and your heart breaks. 

Without thinking much of it, you surge upwards, connecting your mouth with his. You don’t want him to finish his sentence. You don’t want him telling you how terribly sorry he is. Because then your anger will twist and squirm and you’ll say things you’ll properly regret. Right now, you just want to feel him, you want to know that for a little longer he’s here and alive and with you. 

Julian’s large palm finds its way to the back of your neck, and you hate how this kiss tastes of nothing but salt and goodbye’s. You’re so angry, but you just want to pull him into your chest and protect him. “Why would you do this to me.” It’s a wretched whisper against his lips. “Why are you so selfish.” 

Julian sighs, breath hot against the corner of your mouth, places a kiss there. “Because, while I only met you days ago, I feel like I’ve known you for so much longer. I’m selfish and terrible, because I love you. It’s the worst excuse I could give but that doesn’t make it any less true.” He kisses you again, hungrier than before. Sadder than before. “I told you I have a plan. Please, trust me.” 

You ignore the twisting knot that settles into your chest, the way the tears won’t stop falling, and you kiss him again. 


End file.
